


Theatrics

by meaninglessblah



Series: Prompts & Fills [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Flirting, Handcuffs, Jason Todd is Catlad | Stray, Kidnapping, M/M, Tim Drake is Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27219940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaninglessblah/pseuds/meaninglessblah
Summary: Tim turns his wrists through the incredibly sturdy handcuffs, letting them rattle against the arms of the metal chair as he huffs. More for the dramatics than out of any real concern. There’s a certain level of flair in the job description of Robin, and Tim’s loathe to break the streak his predecessor has spent years constructing.“Why am I handcuffed to a chair in a dingy old basement?” Tim asks with broad levity, casting his gaze over the concrete floor beneath his bare feet. His boots have been removed sometime between taking the tranquilliser dart to the neck and being carted halfway across the city by a cat-costumed rogue.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: Prompts & Fills [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987264
Kudos: 53





	Theatrics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frantic_Vampire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frantic_Vampire/gifts).



> This fic was an old prompt fill, moved over from Tumblr. The prompt was “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes", asked by the very sweet franticvampirereads <3

Tim turns his wrists through the incredibly sturdy handcuffs, letting them rattle against the arms of the metal chair as he huffs. More for the dramatics than out of any real concern. There’s a certain level of flair in the job description of Robin, and Tim’s loathe to break the streak his predecessor has spent years constructing. 

“Why am I handcuffed to a chair in a dingy old basement?” Tim asks with broad levity, casting his gaze over the concrete floor beneath his bare feet. His boots have been removed sometime between taking the tranquilliser dart to the neck and being carted halfway across the city by a cat-costumed rogue. 

Tim has the sudden, horrifying thought that Jason may have just divested him of the shoes in-transit. He tries to banish the image of his boots bobbing in the current of the Sprang from his mind with a firm shake. 

He tilts his head back, twisting to catch a glimpse of the man peeling back the goggles on his head, tousled dark hair flying free from beneath the confines of his black cap. “Seriously, I know your name. We’ve taken AP Computer Science together. Surely we can dispense with the theatrics by now?” 

“You like the theatrics,” comes the coy reply, and Tim snorts. 

“ _You_ like the theatrics,” Tim contradicts with a grin, as Jason sashays back into view. The extra few years since graduation have certainly improved the man’s firm figure, but the tantalising image of the elusive Stray is somewhat marred when you’ve seen what Jason looks like crying over an overdue literature essay. “ _Alas, poor Yorick,_ ” Tim drawls with dripping tones, making Jason roll his eyes at the overacting, “ _I knew him well-_ ” 

“ _I knew him, Horatio,_ ” Jason corrects with the tempered patience of one with an actual appreciation of the fine arts, “ _a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy._ ” 

“Shakespeare never was my strong suit. But see, this is what I mean! You can’t cuff me to a chair and then forcibly recite poetry at me. That’s a crime.” 

“I’m a criminal,” Jason points out, teeth flashing in his smirk as he cocks a hip, coming to a halt directly in front of him. Tim wiggles his bare toes in the cold, stagnant air. 

“Why am I here?” 

“You fainted,” Jason purrs, lips curled in enduring amusement. “Straight into my arms.” 

“You drugged me,” Tim points out, and Jason shrugs one elegant shoulder. “I don’t think that counts.” 

“I say it does.” 

Tim shakes his head in bewilderment, slumping back in his bonds. Lets his wrists catch in the cuffs when he drops them at his sides. “You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 

Jason hums, lifting a claw to run over the arch of Tim’s cheekbone, the blade catching on the edge of his domino. Tim stills, breath halting in his lungs as Jason’s gaze drinks him down. “But I do have your attention now,” he points out. 

“You do,” Tim agrees easily. “But you could just have easily trapped me with ‘Lifetime coffee supply: sign up sheets inside net’ sign.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Jason murmurs, blue-green eyes sparkling amidst all that black. He lifts his left hand, plucking the fingers of his glove off one by one. Tim’s eyes follow every single movement with silent rapture. 

When Jason tucks them into his belt, Tim says, softer this time, “You still haven’t answered my question.” 

“Which was?” Jason lifts his arms, biceps straining against all that constraining leather, and shucks his cap. He tosses his hair out, combing through some of the more rebellious curls, and Tim finds his train of thought derailed again. 

Almost. “Why am I here?” 

“Would you prefer to be somewhere else?” 

Tim wets his lips. “No.” 

Jason smirks, grin vibrating with the victory. He turns, starting for the stairs back up to the house above them, and Tim strains against his bonds to keep him in sight as he rounds a column, pausing to throw back, “So are you coming or not?” 

Tim grins, hands curling in their confines. “Be right with you.” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jason purrs, and takes the first few steps languidly, not even turning back to toss down, “I think you can work out what the handcuffs are for.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [ ](https://linktr.ee/meaninglessblah)


End file.
